


A Picture's Worth

by thenumber1riddlerfan



Category: The Sisters Grimm - Michael Buckley
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6992146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenumber1riddlerfan/pseuds/thenumber1riddlerfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puck is understandably upset with Sabrina's new painting, but how far is he willing to go to get rid of it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Picture's Worth

It had been a good day as far as Puck was concerned. There had been no horrible surprises at court, Mustardseed hadn't once approached him with another of his subjects' petitions to fix this or that, or make this law or to get rid of that other one, like he did most days, (Contrary to popular belief, the royal coffers were not bottomless.) and now he was returning home to his beautiful wife of two months. Life simply didn't get any better.

Puck was in such a good mood that he was whistling as he swung the door of his wife and his suburban house. His mood continued to climb as he strolled down the hall and into the living room, his lively tune bouncing off the walls. He was halfway to the kitchen when he felt himself die a little on the inside. His spouse called out a greeting, but Puck barely registered it, his gaze fixed on the eastern wall of the room.

Something was occupying the space above the fireplace's mantle. Something that shouldn't have been there. Something that shouldn't have been in Puck's house at all, as far as he was concerned. In fact, the question could easily be raised if the aforementioned object's existence brought any merit whatsoever to the world, or indeed, the universe in general.

Puck's deafness to his wife's increasingly annoyed cries stemmed mostly from his inability to identify precisely what he was looking at. What was it exactly? The sight was so unmitigatedly horrendous that it seemed to defy all rules of logic and classification. Think Puck. You can do this. You're a king, goddamnit! You can surely unravel the mysteries of this…..….. thing. Start small. Okay, it has a square-like shape. Good, good. That's good progress. Don't exhaust yourself. Keep going. It was also relatively flat, with a…. frame? Yes! A frame around it! So maybe it was meant as some kind of depraved torture device, designed to drive a captive insane from its sheer presence. That was plausible, right?

Puck registered movement from the corner of his eye and managed to jerk his head just enough to catch sight of a very attractive blond woman, whose hands on her hips and steely glare were sure indicators of aggravation. Ah, Sabrina was here. Wasn't she looking beautiful today? Puck really should have told her so, but he had more pressing matters. He had to warn her about the madman who had obviously placed this monstrosity here, evidently with the hope of driving them out of their minds! He had to ask if she knew who the culprit was, if she knew what the device was, if she still had all her mental faculties! Now, try to say something!

"Uwahghah?" Puck managed to force out of his throat. Sabrina simply raised an eyebrow.

"I see you've noticed our new painting," Sabrina said coldly, her eyes continuing to glare at her stuttering husband.

Painting? What painting? Puck hadn't seen any new paintings. Why was she discussing aesthetic decorations when the very embodiment of insanity stood but a few feet away?! Wait! Maybe the thing in the frame was a painting! It seemed like a stretch, but Puck refocused his attention on it. C'mon, process those images!

Okay, there appeared to be some sort of pale blob in the center. Was it an albino slug or something? No wait, it looked more like a…. baby. A giant naked baby. Okay. So there was a giant naked baby, and it was sitting…. on some kind of stone table thingy? Around the table were what seemed to be a bunch of butt-naked men and women dancing in a circle. Okay. … Okay. Now that Puck knew what he was looking at here, …. What exactly was he looking at here? An orgy? A cult of pedophiles? Cleveland?

Puck turned his head again to look at his wife. 'Alright,' he thought to himself. 'Formulate an eloquent and kingly reply. Use your gray matter!'

"Ghuwah?"

Okay, that was a start.

Sabrina shook her head in disgust.

"Honestly, Puck. It's a famous piece. Haven't you ever heard of Richard Dadd, the fairy artist?"

Fairy Artist?

The f-?

"I thought it was suitably ironic." Sabrina continued, looking at the "painting" appraisingly. This statement proved powerful enough to jolt Puck out of his brain-addled stupidity.

"Why?! Because, surprisingly enough, we don't strip down and dance naked in the moonlight?!" Puck snarled. "Especially around giant slug-babies?!"

Sabrina's eyebrows reached for the sky. "What?"

"That thing!" Puck said, gesturing towards the pink blob in the middle of the visual abomination.

"… That's you, Puck."

…. wuhgiduh?

"I mean, the title of the piece is 'Puck'. Who did you think it was?" Sabrina asked, her voice saturated with exasperation. "Now are we going to eat or not? I believe it's your night to cook."

Puck was dimly aware of a loud choking sound emanating from his throat as Sabrina turned around and strode back towards the kitchen.

It was two in the morning when Puck finally made his move. He ceased pretending to be asleep, and started to ease himself out of the bed he shared with Sabrina, careful not to cause the springs to creak. He had argued with Sabrina about the 'insult to fairy culture' all evening, but she had remained unmoved. It was clear to him that he would have to take matters into his own hands.

When Puck had extracted himself from the sheets, he gazed down at his still sleeping wife. She was the picture of perfection, even at this late hour. As he watched her chest rise and fall, he realized that the list of things he wouldn't do for her was so small it made atoms look colossal. Still, the only way he was going to live in a house with an object that a) portrayed fairies as insomniac sex offenders, and b) depicted himself as a giant chubby infant, was if he was forcibly restrained. And unconscious.

He made his way to the living room as though the slightest murmur of sound would be a death sentence. (Which it actually might be.) When he finally arrived, he stole quickly to the canvas, taking in its horrors afresh. He was just beginning to grasp the frame when the lights clicked on and a cry of triumph resounded from behind him.

Puck turned to see Sabrina regarding him with the kind of righteous fury in her eyes that he generally only saw when she had won a difficult case.

"What do you think you're doing?!" She thundered at him.

"….Decorating?"

"You let go of that painting right now!" Sabrina growled, stamping her foot in that incredibly endearing way that only she could do.

"I refuse to live in the same house as this thing!" Puck growled back, though with slightly less venom, as he was still taken aback with just how attractive he found angry Sabrina.

"What's wrong with it?!"

"Where do I even begin? This 'painting' is disgusting on so many levels, I'd need an elevator to visit them all!"

"Oh Puck, stop being so dramatic. No one will know that's you! Besides, I thought it was cute."

"Cute, my ass! This isn't art!"

Sabrina narrowed her eyes at him.

"First of all, art is whatever speaks to you. It can be anything." Puck wasn't sure he liked the idea of naked baby Puck and his sex offender friends speaking to anyone. "Second of all, I hate to break it to you, Puck, but we both live in this house! You have no more right to stop me from decorating to my tastes than I do you."

"So you're saying that if I came home with something I liked, but you thought was utterly atrocious, you wouldn't stop me from displaying it?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Sabrina said, her face growing pink (and cute) in anger. "Now, I'm going back to bed! If you touch that painting again, I'll never forgive you!" And with that, Sabrina turned and stomped back upstairs.

"Mustardseed, what am I going to do?! It's been three days and she still won't get rid of it!" Puck was lounging on his throne, though he seemed ill at ease, as nearby, Mustardseed flipped through a series of papers.

"I don't know, brother. Anyway, here are the files you requested on that Dadd fellow, including copies of most of his works." Mustardseed handed the papers over to Puck, who looked slightly nauseated.

"This guy was a sicko." Puck said, as he leafed through them. "'Puck', 'The Fairy Feller's Masterstroke', 'Oberon and Titania', 'Titania sleeping'…."

"No, Puck! Not that one!"

"What the f !#%? Oh my god… my eyes!"

Once Puck had finished retching into the royal trashcan, he whirled to face his brother again.

"Was that guy cracked in the head or something?!" He demanded, still trying to cleanse his mind of the images he had just seen.

"Well actually, he was admitted to Bethlam Psychiatric Hospital, that's Bedlam if you didn't know, after murdering his father in…"

"Mustardseed! I don't really care, all right?! The only thing I care about is figuring out how to get Sabrina to take his psychotically inspired painting down!"

"… You could try asking nicely, I suppose."

"I've already tried that!" Puck growled.

"What about good old fashioned, down on the knees, begging?"

"Last resort."

"Well, I suppose you could find an even worse piece of art to display and not take it down until she agrees to remove hers." Mustardseed said, shaking his head in amused incredulity, but stopping once he saw the calculating smile forming on Puck's face. "…If that's all brother, I think I'll take my leave. If anyone asks, I had nothing to do with… whatever it is you're going to do."

For the second time that week, Puck strolled into his house whistling, this time with a large frame-bound canvas under one arm. Coming into the living room, he looked around for the perfect place to hang his masterpiece. Let's see, Sabrina's …. "painting" was above the mantle, so he should probably put his on the opposite wall, above the couch. Chuckling to himself, Puck pulled a nail and hammer from his pockets, (He had come prepared, after all.) and swiftly pounded the nail in. Then, after firmly placing the canvas' wire upon the nail head, Puck made his way to the kitchen and gave his wife what he thought of as a charming smile.

Sabrina was still in her business suit, seated at the dining table and scribbling something on a legal notepad. She looked up as Puck entered and narrowed her eyes.

"What are you smirking at?"

Puck hastily dialed his smile back several notches.

"Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that you were right."

Sabrina's eyes narrowed even further at the words Puck didn't say nearly as often as he should.

"About…?"

"The painting," Puck stated, struggling to keep its composure with the thought of what was in the living room running rampant through his mind. "I shouldn't have tried to stop you from displaying your new… art. I'm sorry. After all, it speaks to you, right? Who am I to get in the way of an artist and their audience?"

Sabrina's eyes were now slits.

"So in the spirit of art appreciation, I have brought home a piece that spoke to me on such a deep level, it rattled my soul. I'll never be the same for having gazed upon it, for its beauty is more enchanting than the finest aurora in a winter sky, than an autumn twilight, than…"

"Enough," Sabrina growled, getting to her feet and glaring at Puck with unconcealed suspicion. "Where is this painting?"

"Oh it's not a painting. It's more from the… photographic genre of art, but even so, I'm sure you won't believe your eyes." Puck gestured towards the living room, and Sabrina stomped away. Puck waited a couple seconds before following, a giddy spring in his step.

Upon strolling into the living room, he saw Sabrina standing stiff as a board and gazing at the image above the couch. Puck's earlier prediction about it taking her breath away was apparently accurate, for her jaw was attempting to touch the floor, and her face was steadily turning scarlet. Puck walked up to her and slung an arm around her rigid shoulders.

"Well? Isn't it adorable?" And indeed, Puck knew he could look at his newfound treasure all day and never tire from it. The image was of an attractive blond woman in her late teens or early twenties, standing in the middle of a bedroom. Standing being a word which here means, twisting around, trying to cover matching blue undergarments, while a maroon face screams silent obscenities at her unexpected visitor. Puck knew that if this wasn't art, nothing was.

Puck glanced over at current Sabrina Grimm, whose expression mirrored what his own had been three days ago; red face, huge eyes, and a jaw that had evidently quit working as it kept moving up and down without the slightest bit of noise emerging.

"Yeah, Mustardseed showed me a spell to retrieve this from my memories. Puck said contentedly, turning back to his masterpiece, and totally ignoring the fact that he had just done what his brother had specifically told him not to do.  
"Had to kick him out after that, of course. Nobody can see this sight except us."

Puck tried to ignore the sharp pain that was Sabrina's nails digging into his arm. Endeavoring to keep his enthusiastic smile on his face, Puck turned to see the two soulless chasms that until recently had been his wife's eyes.

"Yes dear?"

"Puck. We are not hanging this." Sabrina's voice in that instant, though rather quietly spat out, was akin to the roars of the most dangerous of predatory animals, in the sense that they both inspired terror in the feeble hearts of man.

"Why not?" Puck said happily, as he backed away almost imperceptibly, ready to flee or duck as needed.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHY NOT?!" Sabrina screamed as Puck moved to the other side of the couch, now not nearly as subtle. "YOU WANT VISITORS TO COME IN AND SEE THAT?!"

"Hey now, first of all, at least you're wearing something in mine. In yours, "I" am not only butt naked, I'm a toddler." Puck stated as calmly as he could while continuing to move, trying to keep the couch between him and Sabrina, who was growling like a feral animal. (Which would have been cute and endearing instead of terrifying in different circumstances.) "Second of all, Mustardseed also showed me a charm to make everyone else see something different, so you've got nothing to worry about on that account. Besides, you said I could display any art I wanted! And after all, if I have to see myself nude everyday, the least you could do is reciprocate a little."

Sabrina glared at him, furiously scarlet, from across what had grown to be an eight-foot gap between them, Puck obviously forgoing discreteness for safety. Her hands spasmed, as though she would like nothing better than to reach out and strangle her husband. Her mind whirled in circles, as she tried to come up with a reason to keep Puck from displaying the abomination without going back on her word.

"My piece is a classic, yours is little more than porn," is what she managed to growl out eventually.

"Uh, Brina? Let's do a ratio of naked people, shall we? Yours: like, twenty. Mine: half. Point seven tops."

Sabrina's eyes were now slits. Her breathing was coming in huge ragged gasps. Then, all at once, she appeared to make a decision.

"Fine then," she spat. "Keep your trash out!" She turned and stalked back toward the kitchen. Puck deflated a little on the inside, hoping that she would've offered to take her painting down immediately if he did the same.

Suddenly, Sabrina turned around.

"And we'll see who lasts longer," she said with an evil smile, "when all our guests can't see the full atrocity of your "piece", and meanwhile, I tell them all what the subject of my painting is." And with that, she stomped her way into the hall.

Wait. What? She was going to do what? Oh, Grimm, it was on, now.


End file.
